So Cold
by TrisEatonTobiasPrior
Summary: Peter struggles with his inner demons and the realization of who he really is and the mistakes he has made. Rated T for now. (An unofficial further look into Peter in Allegiant). Petris/Fourtris (not the best description but please read!) Inspired by the song 'So Cold' by Ben Cocks.


Oh, you can't hear me cry

See my dreams all die

Peter Hayes was curled up in the corner of the empty room he shared with the group of people he had accompanied to the Bureau of Genetic Welfare, tears streaming down his face. Books surrounded him, arranged in messy piles, threatening to give way at any moment and collapse; however, not one of them was open. He had intended to read them, but his recent change of feelings had erased that mindset entirely, although the boy was still not quite sure where this sudden on slew of sadness had come from.

Earlier in the day, Peter had climbed onto a plane with several other passengers, working his way to the back of the aircraft where he settled next to Caleb, one of the only humans he considered to even remotely be his friend. Caleb had allowed Peter to take the window seat and they had lifted off, Caleb warbling about engines and the lift of the air and wings as the plane rose higher and higher, the ground becoming more and more distant. Then, as the jet reached it's set altitude and began to progress forward, everyone fell silent, gasping.

The Bureau of Genetic Welfare was now a small period in a sentence of land, barely definable. Peter could hardly believe that the building he had just been inside was now so small, so unimportant. The ceilings, the walls and the roof, that had been much higher then his own head, appeared to be the size of the little ants that Peter used to smother with his bare hands when he was a child. If someone who didn't know about the Bureau were to see it from this angle, would they know of the life changing moments that had taken place there, of the memories he had made in that location?

No, of course they wouldn't; it wouldn't mean anything to them.

Then another thought crossed his mind; if a building was so minuscule from here, what would a person look like? Could someone be walking thousands of feet below him, and if they were, would he even be able to see them? Would they be just a microscopic speck of dirt? The questions swarming in Peter's mind overwhelmed him, but only one thing was constant; how insignificant the world seemed from this view.

"I was in the library yesterday and came across this large book entitled 'The World Atlas,'" Caleb murmured softly, as if not to interrupt the awe of the others. "I was starting to open it, and then, it turned out that it wasn't even a book at all. It was some kind of map that you could unfold, but, Peter, it wasn't like any map I've ever seen before. It didn't just show the factions, or safe houses, or anything like it; it showed countries, and states, and continents, and cities, too! And the most unbelievable thing is that Chicago? One of the tiniest things. At first, I couldn't even find it, because I had to look in America, then the United States, then Illinois, and then there it was; Chicago. A dot."

It made Peter feel even worse, so much worse that he didn't even respond. He just stared at Caleb, expressionless. Caleb looked back at him, head tilted, a slight smile on his face. Peter knew it was because Caleb was trying to understand, attempting to read Peter's emotions and come up with an answer for his actions. He wasn't going to, though; one thing that Peter had learned was how to hide things from others; how to lie, even though he had spent all of a few months of life learning how to tell the truth.

Finally, Peter averted his gaze to something else; the window. He mentally told himself that it didn't matter what anyone said and what he would look like from the view of an aircraft. He would go to these places that Caleb described; he would explore every continent, country, state, and city that there was to explore, and until then, he would relish in the fact that he meant something to those around him. It comforted him; momentarily.

After about another hour of soaring through the air, the pilot announced that they would be descending, and Peter found himself sighing with relief. Caleb had reached into the front pocket of the seat in front of him and had rattling off interesting facts from a magazine that been stowed there for the past twenty minutes. Peter could only take so much of Caleb's constant rambling, failing to understand why he seemed to believe that because he was obsessed with learning new things, everyone else was, too.

"Can we switch seats, quick?" Caleb whispered.

Peter nodded, unclipping his belt and awkwardly leaning over Caleb in an effort to change places. Caleb was also wriggling out of his own buckle, and when Peter almost tripped over his own feet, they burst out laughing. It felt good to chuckle, for both of them; it had been the first time in awhile. The happy moment was short lived, though, because everyone on the plane turned around at the sound, bewildered. Including her.

Both boys met her eyes painfully, closing their mouths and falling into their new seats. She was smiling, at first, but her mouth transformed into a straight line once she realized that they were sitting together. Both of the people she hated the most. Her hands reached up to tuck loose strands of dark blonde hair behind her ears, and then, in one swift movement, she turned back around.

That was all it took to hurt Peter. Everything came rushing back to him; by the Chasm, in the dorm room after she got out of the shower, the fights, the words, how she looked lying beneath him bleeding before he finished her with one kick. The Erudite compound, the escape, the truck and not enough good to weigh out the bad; at least not in her opinion. And it hit him like a brick.

His reassuring thoughts earlier about how he meant something to those around him were wrong. He didn't mean anything to anyone; not Caleb, not his parents, not her. Everyone was either dead or dying or hated him or didn't like him or had gone somewhere he didn't know. And even if he did mean simply something to someone, it wasn't enough of it. He didn't want to be a friend. He wanted to be something more; a boyfriend, then a husband, and one day a father.

He had spent so much time concentrating on being the best in everything he did, especially in initiation. He woke up everyday with thoughts of his name, Peter, with a large one next to it. He imagined the shouts of happiness, the drinks downed, the girl in his arms. He didn't ever figure out who exactly would even cheer for him, or who the girl he would hold would be, but he knew that he wanted it to happen. It didn't.

After that, one thing led to another, and he was stuck in a small room with her. She was going to die, and he was going to be the one who brought her to her death. In that time, that short time that they were alone together, she had told him that she would forgive him. She had given him hope and the realization that the girl in his arms could be her. He figured that he would have a few ropes to climb, and a few obstacles to jump over, but he could get there. He awoke with a new goal; his body next to hers instead of his name next to a number. He kept her alive with the help of an Erudite girl named Cara, and had even saved her boyfriend, Four, one of the biggest problems he anticipated having to go through to get to her.

Soon, though, it became apparent that would be none of it. Peter's efforts were in vain, and he had no chance with her. After he saved her and she was reunited with Four, they were inseparable. She went back to despising him, and he knew that no matter what he did, he had already done too much. Although helping her in her greatest time of need had gained him enough of her trust that she didn't fear him, it did not gain her affection. He remembered things, but she did, too.

And she couldn't forgive him.

There, on that plane, Peter came to terms with the fact that he couldn't keep telling himself that it was going to be okay. It was not okay; he was not okay, and he was never going to be okay. At the end of the day, he meant just as much to the people he surrounded as the Bureau would mean to any passerby in a plane. He was not special. He was not the best. He was not needed. He was useless and hated. He was a speck of bad in a city of good and he had ruined everything.

Now, sitting in the corner of the empty room sobbing, Peter was as crushed as the ground underneath the very jet that had helped him know how worthless he really was.

..

AUTHORS NOTE

So, uh, long time no write? I've been so busy with school that I had no time to write. I have also removed two of my stories (the most popular ones) for the time being for some reasons that are kind of hard to explain, and I'm really sorry about that. All in all, I don't want to get in to it to much, but basically some of my stories are gone and I've just been very busy. However, I'M BACK. Anyway, I heard this song and immediately thought of this story. I will be updating tomorrow and that is a promise. I hope you enjoyed this, I wrote it in a hurry haha lol. But please REVIEW! And follow. I love support.

SORRY THAT THIS CHAPTER WAS KIND OF, SLOW, I GUESS? Boring? It gets better, trust me.

Thanks,

TETP


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